


Love Springing Into Bloom, Love Consuming Other Loves, Love On Fleeting Feet.

by spills



Series: Like-Like and Not-Love [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental Almost Self Harm, M/M, No Really Teen Boys Are Stupid AF, PJO!AU, Son of Aphrodite!Suna, Son of Eros!Komori, Son of Persephone!Sakusa, Teenage Boy Drama, Teenage Boy Violence, There Are Some Regrets, son of hermes!osamu, specifically #kurohqpjoau
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25651348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spills/pseuds/spills
Summary: Is only love capable of consuming love?
Relationships: Komori Motoya & Sakusa Kiyoomi, Komori Motoya/Miya Osamu, Komori Motoya/Suna Rintarou, Miya Osamu/Komori Motoya/Suna Rintarou, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Series: Like-Like and Not-Love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859686
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	Love Springing Into Bloom, Love Consuming Other Loves, Love On Fleeting Feet.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eclipsed (lucitae)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucitae/gifts).



> im so invested in [kuro's pjo!au](https://twitter.com/shokurensei/status/1288033046348750848) you don't understand your honour
> 
> but also the Accidental Almost Self Harm is Motoya almost cutting his throat so if that makes you uncomfy, please skip the entire paragraph that starts with "His cousin's eyes are closed..." and the rest should aight, just. Messy teen boy drama violence.

“Fancy seeing you here Komori.” 

From behind his hiding spot among the trees, Kiyoomi can hear the voice of Suna Rintarou, son of Aphrodite, his tone apathetic in its amusement. His role here was to shadow Motoya, who’s tracking abilities had been agreed on as one of the best within Camp Halfblood, capable of rivaling those that belonged to Artermis’ Hunters. 

When asked for an explanation for Motoya’s uncanny sense of his surroundings, the joke would be in regards to his godly father having a pair of wings, so of course Komori would be privy to a bird’s eye of his surroundings. Or that love was present everywhere, so of course Komori would be able to detect anything capable of feeling affection. Lazy reasonings that Motoya never bothered to confirm or deny. 

Actual reasoning being Motoya had spent much of his childhood playing hide-and-seek with Zephyros, getting lost in the Sakusa mansion searching for Kiyoomi with the nooks of each shadow, under the shade of each tree in the garden. A childhood spent trying to catch the wind, looking for another child that despised being found. 

The sound of Komori’s laughter rings bright in the forest. “Really?” the tone of his voice jovial, but Sakusa catches a bit of strain within it, “I’m more surprised to see you here. Sure you wouldn’t rather be slacking off instead, Rin?” jabs Motoya, who hasn’t made a move to engage their opponent just yet. 

Sakusa shadowing Motoya was for the element of surprise, providing back-up for the other boy should he encounter more demigods than he can handle. It’s just one Suna Rintarou at the moment. Motoya should be capable of handling one son of Aphrodite. 

Suna laughs along with Motoya, and the sound has goosebumps running up Sakusa’s skin. The sound being too fond for  _ just friends _ and Sakusa, being around his cousin so much, has unwittingly osmosis-ed an ear for  _ too friendly  _ sounds. “Oh ‘Toya,” Suna sighs, “I thought you said that you wanted to see me work harder.” 

“Hmn,” Motoya offers a sound of consideration, stalling for time, “Yeah, but I would have preferred that if we were on the same team you know? Right now,” the sound of light footsteps, and Motoya is probably getting ready to break into a run, retreat and regroup, “You’re just being a nuisance,” and the final word sounds more like a pointed insult than jest. 

_ Much too personal.  _ Has Suna been the reason for Motoya’s recent silences? Sakusa waits for a signal, to engage in combat, for Motoya to come running back. He hates his current position, waiting for the pin to drop.

“I’m the nuisance?” Suna’s voice drops into something sardonic, the sound of metal being unsheathed. Not Motoya’s, because Motoya’s gear today consists of a bow in his hand, quiver secure on his back, and a dagger snug around his left thigh. “You’re being awfully mean to me today,” Suna’s tone is full of mock-hurt and Motoya laughs even more, “Didn’t you say that you would roll over and die for me? Why don’t you do that instead?” 

Once, Motoya had mentioned that Thanatos happened to be the counterpart to Eros. Said that their faces were similar, their bone structures too, and how breathtaking they were, two sides of the same devastatingly beautiful coin. Kiyoomi would prefer to never meet Eros, if possible. 

Love leading to Death, spring ending leading to flowers wilting - a smaller act of death. Love and death and spring. First loves during spring, does love nip at spring’s heel, or is the other way around? 

Is only love capable of consuming love? There’s the sound of metal being unsheathed, and that’s the sound of Motoya’s bladework, short and quick. 

Kiyoomi doesn’t wait to find out. Closes his eyes and lets the forest’s shadows consume him, imagines all the flowers in his presence blooming. 

Motoya has always had the uncanny ability to find Kiyoomi no matter where he is. It’s only natural that it works in reverse as well, as Sakusa emerges from Motoya’s shadow, who has his dagger in his hand, celestial bronze glinting wickedly under sunlight that has slipped through the foliage, the sharp end of the blade pricking against his throat despite the ivy that has curled around Motoya’s right arm. 

His cousin’s eyes are closed, his smile peaceful and resigned, and Kiyoomi wonders what would have happened if he arrived a second too late. He twists the dagger out of Motoya’s hand gently, relieved that the other boy doesn’t fight him. Still, seeing Motoya like this… felt wrong, left his blood cold and Sakusa can feel anger washing over him like an ice bath when he finally turns his gaze towards Suna. Suna, who’s disinterested demeanor is finally broken to something that looks almost like fear. 

What right does this son of Aphrodite have to feel fear? If between Love and Love, all the power was clearly vested in his voice that ended up being a noose around Motoya’s neck. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he snarls, and flowers in their vicinity blooms too bright and too bold, looking poisonous in hue. Flowers blooming to block out sunlight, encasing the three of them in this private hell together. Sakusa knows better than to fly into a blind rage, but just because he knows it, doesn’t mean it’ll stop him from acting on it anyway. Not in a moment like this, when his body is already moving faster than his brain can think, determined to make Suna pay. 

Rage doesn’t just blind, but deafens as well, which is why he doesn’t hear the quick footsteps that break into a run, preventing him from taking a slash at Suna. Stygian iron meets celestial bronze in a loud clash, dark eyes meeting even darker eyes. 

“Have you lost your damn mind?” so it isn’t just three people stuck in this kaleidoscope of flowers, but four. Miya Osamu has his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched when he grits out, “We aren’t supposed to  _ actually  _ kill each other,” the son Hermes slides his blade out of their deadlock, holding one arm out to shield Suna from him, and his sword pointed at Sakusa. 

Rationally, what Osamu is saying is correct, and typically, Sakusa followed the rules when it came to rough housing and hurting each other during practice. Irrationally however, the sight before Persephone’s son only served to enrage him even further, as Osamu positioned himself into a defensive stance, as if Sakusa was the dragon, Suna was the princess, and Osamu was the latter’s white knight.

Motoya? A thud to the ground, body on the floor. 

“Get out of the way Miya,” Sakusa’s voice is even, betraying the turmoil of emotions that are making his eyes spin after almost witnessing his cousin slit his own throat in Love’s name. “I thought your brother was annoying. But you?” he can’t help the glance he sends back to Motoya’s unconscious body, ivy on the forest floor cocooning around his cousin protectively before he flicks his gaze back to Osamu, “You’re an eyesore. Stop fucking around with Komori, if you and Suna are already together.” 

_ He doesn’t deserve to be at anyone else’s mercy but his own.  _

The first emotion that crosses Osamu’s face is confusion, before his brow twitches in indignation. “Shut up?” two words laced with fury, “I’m not the one going psycho here trying to commit murder,” Osamu hisses as Sakusa swings his blade at him with narrowed eyes, “and this isn’t any of your business.” 

Kiyoomi does not know what  _ this  _ is. He does not  _ want  _ to know what  _ this _ is. What he does know is that  _ this  _ has been giving Motoya more complications than necessary, because of selfish  _ love feelings _ or whatever. Osamu steps to the side, away from his strike, and steps in with his own slash. “How is this none of my business?” and the question is much more bitter than he intended. 

Osamu has the audacity to laugh at that, parrying another one of Sakusa’s attacks, “Ya trying to tell me that you’re in love with Komori too?”

Of course, it has fuck all to do with  _ love.  _

In a moment of impulse, Sakusa drops his sword, surprising Osamu enough that he manages to land a punch square on the other teen’s jaw. “He’s  _ family  _ you fucking tool,” he spits out viciously as Osamu takes a chance to lunge at him, having them both rolling around in endless flora.

* * *

Kiyoomi is not one to believe in pre-determined fate, but he will concede blessings to good fortune. Hence maybe it is good luck when his graceless brawl with Osamu is put to a halt when a search party of other campers have noticed their teams missing two each upon headcount. 

Being found is easy, as the dryads and nymphs had wailed to Kita about their trees being overrun by flowers all of a sudden, pointing the son of Demeter in the missing quartet’s direction upon helping the forest creatures quell the sudden invasive species. The other campers had found Suna shooing and tearing away ivy from Komori’s body, offering to carry the unconscious boy back to the Apollo Cabin first as the son of Aphrodite told them not to bother with stopping the fight in front of them. Some tried to no avail. 

10 minutes later, Kita had arrived, arms crossed while wearing a placid expression. Cleared his throat once, then twice before finally getting both the boys’ attention onto him. His expression frosty, lips turned into a small frown before he had shook his head, and walked away. 

It was the first time Kiyoomi had been reprimanded by the older boy in such a way that had shame flooding through his veins. Probably the same situation for Osamu as he had stopped trading blows with him. Both of them get to their feet to follow Kita out of the forest, completely silent in the walk out, refusing to look at each other. 

_ Do you remember the afternoon?  _ He had asked his cousin who had a bandage around his neck, while he munched on some ambrosia in Eros’ cabin. Pain was a problem with an easy solution. The problem Komori appeared to be facing didn’t seem to have any simple solutions, unless it involved two deaths and even then, Kiyoomi knew that was a problem to solve another problem. 

Motoya had groaned into his hands.  _ Can we not talk about it?  _

The other’s desire to dismiss the issue had Kiyoomi stop mid-bite, as usually, Motoya would talk about the problem, then get over it. What made his situation this time around different? Oh right. And Kiyoomi bites into the ambrosia square hard enough to hurt his jaw, still tender from a mean right hook from  _ that  _ cursed son of Hermes.

Disgusting. If he ever puts his hands on either him or Motoya again, Kiyoomi will cut his hands off and deem it self-defense. The same should apply to that other son of Aphrodite too. 

Love. And it’s many curses. Motoya, in all the love he has to share, falls victim to it too. Love falling victim to love sounds like a cruel joke. 

A lull of silence, and Motoya still doesn’t look at him. 

_ Okay,  _ and Kiyoomi breaks the silence for once,  _ we don’t have to talk about it.  _

**Author's Note:**

> thank u [kuro](https://twitter.com/shokurensei) for letting me screem constantly <3 <3 
> 
> u can catch me on [tweeter](https://twitter.com/RainElsewhere)!!  
> \-   
> Ume!!! Drew [ art ](https://twitter.com/irleggsy/status/1290115915023962114) for the fic and im honestly!!! ! not over it at all!!!!!!!!!


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